


Ghost

by louisingivenchy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - No One Direction, Barista Louis, M/M, anxiety mention, burglary mention, deals with ghosts, death mention, harry might come later, if you're sensitive to any of those things you might find it a little upsetting idk, liam is a ghost, louis is overdramatic, niall is there a lil, zayn doesn't care about anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:36:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisingivenchy/pseuds/louisingivenchy
Summary: Louis has had his eyes on a particular house for a long time. Soon, he and his best friend, Zayn, move in and everything seems perfect. But when things start to get strange, Louis realizes they may not be alone in the house after all. A ghost soon reaches out to him and he experiences things he never thought could happen... Is it possible to fall in love with someone who's not physically there?OR the one where Louis and Zayn move into a house and they're not alone.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> AU Lilo fic.  
> Mature - some language, adult situations, etc.
> 
> This is not completed, and I would definitely appreciate feedback!

Louis had been drawn to the house the moment he laid eyes on it. He didn't know why, but he found himself driving past it every day on his way home from work, slowing down just enough to get a good look. It was a decent sized place, not too big and not too small; a perfect place for he and his current roommate, Zayn. Zayn had been Louis's best friend for years and they were pretty much inseparable. The two shared a cramped, outdated flat and had discussed moving a few times, usually over cups of ramen noodles at the counter which served as a kitchen table since they didn't have room for one.

There was something inside Louis's brain, nagging him and constantly reminding him of the house. He found himself daydreaming about the house at work, wondering what the inside looked like. It felt as if he was constantly being pulled to it. He told himself it was fate.

Louis had taken it upon himself to get in touch with the realtor and took a tour of the charming grey-blue house, which was surprisingly low-priced, and within a few days he and Zayn had purchased it.

Now, they were finishing up the process of moving in. Boxes were scattered around the interior of the house while the two boys unpacked, though it wasn't much since they had come from such a small flat.

"I can't believe we actually got this place." Louis beamed, kicking aside one of the empty boxes.

Zayn nodded and flopped down onto the couch, taking a break. "Can't believe no one else beat us to it, 'specially at a price like that."

It was true. The house wasn't fancy, but it certainly wasn't a dump. It was in a decent neighborhood, in good condition and something about it just screamed "home". In Louis's opinion, people should've been begging to get in there. But the realtor had told him that she had been trying to sell it for a while after the last family who had lived there moved out after only a few months. Clearly, they were missing out.

The two finished the bulk of their unpacking and soon comfortably settled into their new home for the night, both excited to finally have rooms of their own. At their old flat, they had to share a room and started out with taking turns sleeping on an inflatable mattress on the floor while the other got the bed. Eventually they shared the bed, which turned out to be less awkward than they had thought. But now they both had their own room and their own space and privacy. (Louis had discovered that no matter how close he was to his best friend, he still enjoyed having time alone.) It was a dream come true.


	2. Chapter 2

Louis's body jolted him awake, his blue eyes snapping open. He scrambled to sit up, heart pounding in his chest so hard that he could hear it in his ears. The thing was, he didn't know why. He didn't know why he had woken up or what he was so afraid of. A bad dream? But he didn't remember having one. Maybe a noise had awoken him. Probably just Zayn, going to the bathroom or something.

He glanced over at his alarm clock which gave off a dim blue glow. 3:45AM. He sighed and settled back against the mattress, allowing his eyes to slip closed again.

After only a few minutes of rest, a noise caused him to open his eyes again. It sounded like something fell off of his nightstand. He reached over, his hand a bit shaky as he turned on the lamp beside his bed. Blinking a few times, he leaned over and glanced down at the carpet, noticing his pack of cigarettes had somehow ended up on the floor.

How in the world did that happen? He thought to himself, muttering as he reached down to pick up the pack and set it back on the nightstand, placing it in the center so there would be no way it would fall again.

Truthfully, he didn't think much of the incident; he had no reason to. So he urged himself to fall back to sleep, not waking up again until he heard Zayn close the front door as he left for work. It didn't disturb him much though, so he was able to continue his rest until around eleven in the morning. He didn't have work, so he had the house to himself and was free to relax.

Louis climbed out of bed and began his day, showering and getting dressed. He pulled on dark skinny jeans and a thin, somewhat sheer black t-shirt, fixing his fringe a bit before he headed into the kitchen. He hummed softly to himself as he put on the tea kettle and then hopped up to sit on the counter, swinging his legs as he waited for the water to heat up.

He took a moment to glance around the kitchen. It was still rather plain and empty; they had put the few pots, pans and silverware that they had put away in the cabinets and drawers. They needed to go out and buy a table, and maybe some decorations to just make it look like people actually lived there. But right now, Louis was content, lost in his thoughts until the tea kettle whistled.

Sliding off of the counter, he turned off the stove and poured the hot water into his favorite tea cup, placing a tea bag inside— Yorkshire, of course.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caused his head to snap up. He heard Zayn leave for work this morning and since they were the only two who lived there, there definitely shouldn't have been anyone else in the house.

"Zayn?" He called out wearily. Maybe he had come home early? But wouldn't Louis have heard the front door open?

There was no response, only more footsteps, coming closer. Great, they had only just moved in and their house was already being burglarized?!

Louis carefully opened one of the drawers and grabbed a knife. It was a standard size, not even remotely threatening. But it would have to do. Clutching the knife in his hands, (he had always insisted that he was "tiny but mighty"), he stayed still and quiet, listening intently for any sounds.

As the footsteps came closer and closer until they sounded like they were right outside of the kitchen, he held his breath and braced himself, ready to swing his weapon. Surely it could do some damage if he tried hard enough. Did he have the courage or strength to kill someone if necessary? Oh, god.

The figure appeared in the doorway and Louis wielded the knife out in front of him with a pathetic yelp.

"Woah! Easy, mate! What're y'doing?!"

It was Zayn. Louis's eyes widened and he lowered his hands, letting out the breath he had been holding.

"Oh bloody hell, Zayn! I thought we were being robbed!"

Zayn laughed and shook his head, stepping past Louis and opening the refrigerator. Louis placed the knife down on the counter and sighed, glancing over at Zayn and realizing he was in his pajamas.

"Didn't waste any time changing, huh? Why're you home so early anyway?" Louis questioned, taking a sip of his tea.

"What're you talking about, mate? I called in this morning." Zayn replied with ease, taking a beer out of the fridge.

Louis felt his stomach twist in a not-so-good way. He had heard Zayn leave this morning.

"Stop fucking with me. You left this morning. I heard the door."

Zayn turned to face Louis, raising an eyebrow. "Must've been dreaming, 'cause I just woke up a little while ago."

Louis opened his mouth to speak but then promptly closed it, his lips forming into a tight line. Maybe it was a dream. He couldn't really remember. Things had been strange last night, anyway. Why was he so on edge? He decided not to say anything else about it.

The two spent the rest of the day putting away the last few things they had unpacked and that evening they sat down and made a list of things they needed to buy in order to complete their new home. Once they were finished, Louis set the notepad down beside him and placed the pen on top of it and settled back onto the couch.

"How about a movie, lad?" He asked, his eyes landing on his friend.

Zayn nodded, stretching out on the couch. "Yeah, then I gotta head to bed. Early day tomorrow."

Louis grabbed the remote and hit the power button, watching the television screen come to life. Within minutes, Captain America was playing and the two were sharing a bowl of popcorn. But it didn't last, because half way through the movie the screen turned to static, the sudden sound of white noise making Louis want to rip his ears off.

"What's wrong with it? Stupid thing." He grumbled, pressing a few buttons on the remote, but nothing changed.

"Prob'ly gave out, thing's old." Zayn pointed out, shrugging very nonchalantly.

Louis rolled his eyes, watching as the screen went from gray stripes of static to pitch black. "Well it worked just fine before. And we were in the middle of the bloody movie!"

He knew he was being a little (or extremely) overdramatic; it wasn't like they hadn't seen Captain America before. But Louis would never get tired of looking at Robert Downey Jr.

He pressed the power button a few times, but nothing changed and they sat there in silence for a few moments longer.

Zayn grabbed a final handful of popcorn and stood up. "Ah well, s'no big deal. Off to bed, then. See ya tomorrow."

Louis muttered something in reply, glaring at the television screen as Zayn left the room. Within the next few minutes, he unplugged it and plugged it back in, reset the cable box, and even gave the side of the television a few hits with his palm for good measure. Nothing. He let out an exasperated sigh and got up, tossing the remote onto the couch. Then he added "TV" to their list of things to buy and turned off the light.


	3. Chapter 3

Louis locked eyes with a man across the bar. And hell, he was handsome. Maybe the most handsome man he had ever seen in his life, besides David Beckham of course. Actually, this guy had some similarities to Beckham, and Louis was not complaining.

But the man was beautiful. Breathtaking, even. Deep brown eyes and a little bit of scruff on his face, but not too much. His hair was effortlessly styled into a quiff on top, but buzzed on the sides. Tattoos were visible on his arms and hands.

Truthfully, he was hoping this David Beckham look-alike would come over and talk to him. Maybe more. Maybe take him home. Perhaps that was just the alcohol talking.

Beckham 2.0 flashed a grin and made his way through the crowd, heading straight for Louis. Oh my God. This was it. He was going to snog the hottest guy in the bar. He was going to snog the closest possible thing to David Beckham. If he said he hadn't been longing for that since he was a teenager, he'd be lying.

"Hey." The taller man spoke as he stopped beside Louis, leaning his arm on the bar counter, his gaze never faltering.

It felt like Louis's brain had turned to mush.

"Hi." He managed to speak, casually taking a sip from his glass. "Never seen you here before."

The bar was a hit among locals, and Louis was a regular, so it was rare to see someone new there.

"That's because I've been gone for a while." The male replied simply, brown eyes looking Louis over. Even his voice was hot.

"Do you live in town, then? Took a holiday? I'm Louis, by the way."

"You could say that."

Ah, playing the mysterious card. Louis pursed his lips together and decided not to pry. If he wanted any chance with this lad he would have to save the annoying side of himself for later.

The two wound up in a corner of the bar, seemingly instantly attracted to one another. There was little conversation, just the sound of music blaring all around them while they stayed staring at each other.

As if by some miracle, the male slowly began to lean forward, eyeing Louis's lips. Was he going to kiss him? Louis usually liked to play hard to get but right now he was absolutely ready to melt into it.

And then his alarm went off.

His eyes opened and he groaned, a hand coming out from under the covers, aimlessly searching for the "off" button. Once the alarm stopped, the male flopped back down with a defeated sigh. He didn't want to go to work, he wanted to make out with Beckham 2.0 in his dreams. Who was the guy anyway? Louis was positive that he had never seen him before in his life. The guy didn't even have a name in his dream. But it felt so real. Apparently he had an incredible imagination that could create super fit guys for him to look at in his sleep.

Sighing, Louis got out of bed and proceeded to get ready for work. Within an hour, he was behind the counter at a local coffee shop, an apron thrown over his clothes as he poured endless cups of coffee to customers. Usually, he was the "go-to" barista; customers raved about him, about how friendly he was and how he never failed to make them smile or laugh. It was his favorite part of the job. But today his mind was elsewhere. Today he couldn't stop thinking about the man from his dream.

"You alright there, dear? Looking a bit tired today." A customer who had just approached the counter told him with a slight frown. She came in daily and ordered the same thing; a medium caramel latte with a shot of espresso. Louis remembered.

"S'all good, love, thank you. Just one of those days." The male replied, already starting on the drink before she had the chance to order.

He finished the drink off with a swirl of whipped cream and snapped the lid on before sliding it over to her. The woman smiled and placed a few extra dollars into the tip jar before leaving. If Louis hadn't been so caught up in thinking about a man who didn't even exist, he would've said thank you.

As silly as it sounded, he was pretty bummed that the man in his dreams was just that; a dream. A figment of his imagination. He would never actually see him or know what it was like to kiss him. Probably wouldn't even encounter him again in his dreams. Why was he so hung up on a fake person? Stupid, he thought. Maybe there was something wrong with him. Maybe he should see a doctor. It wasn't normal to feel so anxious all the time, or lust after a made up guy in your dreams. How long before Zayn decided to move out and leave him because he had gone mental? What if–

"Louis? What're you doing?"

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of his co-worker's voice, glancing down at the counter where he had, apparently, absentmindedly poured coffee creamer.

"Uh.. Guess I spaced out." He murmured. Great, he was an absolute lunatic. Certifiable. He could see the headlines now: "Local man goes insane after seeing David Beckham lookalike in his dreams."

The boy, Niall, just laughed and went back to making someone's drink. He and Louis had worked here together for two years now, so Niall was used to him having his moments.

"We all have those days. Take a nap when you get home." He said in his Irish accent and smiled, walking away to serve a customer.

If only it was that simple. Louis let out a heavy sigh and began to clean up the counter. He was determined to get through this shift. A stupid, nonexistent (yet handsome) man was not going to ruin his day.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a little over a week since Louis and Zayn had moved into their new home. Everything seemed perfect at first, but now almost every day there was some kind of strange occurrence. Besides the weird dream that he still thought about from time to time, it was little things like cabinets being opened and the water in the sink running while Louis was home alone. At first he assumed that maybe Zayn had forgot to close the cabinet or turn the water off before he left. But then he found that sometimes the cabinets would be opened again after he already closed them. He couldn't help but have an uneasy feeling about it. 

A few times, Louis had noticed that things he placed down were moved. For example, he had put down his cup of tea on his nightstand and went to throw in some laundry, and when he came back, the cup was gone. Somehow it ended up on the other side of the room. How? The lad had just shook his head and moved the cup back where he thought he placed it. Maybe there really was something wrong with him. 

It just seemed like no matter what, he couldn't stop thinking about all of the odd things that have been happening. It didn't add up. But when he talked to Zayn about it, the other male didn't seem bothered at all. He always thought there had to be some rational reason behind the incidents. 

"You're overreacting, mate. Haven't been getting enough sleep, yeah? That's all it is." 

Zayn's words echoed in his head one night when he was by himself. He had stayed home to rest and try to stop being so on edge about everything while Zayn went out clubbing. It was unusual for Louis not to go along, but he took his friend's advice for once and wanted to sleep. Mainly, he wanted the satisfaction of waking up and feeling refreshed, instead of feeling like there was something out of the ordinary constantly happening in the house. 

As he laid there, though, he could only stare at the ceiling. His mind was in overdrive. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Different scenarios played through his memory, and he tried to convince himself that it really was just lack of sleep; there was no way someone– or something– was in the house. Wait. Ghosts didn't exist, did they? Louis had watched plenty of TV shows and movies about the paranormal. But he had never seen one in real life. They didn't exist in his world. Right?

The male let his eyes slip closed, taking in a deep breath and willing himself to relax, to stop thinking. But he was overcome with a new feeling; it felt like someone was watching him. 

He sat up slowly, eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Zayn hadn't come home yet. He wouldn't be home until the very early morning hours. So why did he have this unnerving feeling of being watched? Why in the hell was he so paranoid lately? 

Louis got up and went over to the window, scrambling to close the curtains, as if that would ease the overwhelming anxiety he was feeling. While his back was turned away from the room, a hand gently touched his back.   

And that's when Louis screamed bloody murder.

His body spun around quickly to see.. Nothing. There was no one there. He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

It's fine, you're not crazy. You need sleep. Go to sleep. 

The male took a final glance around his room before crawling back under the covers. He closed his eyes and tried his best to relax, tried to fight off any thoughts that unnerved him. Soon, his mind became foggy and he began to drift off. 

Until something caused him to open his eyes. 

He didn't know why he did, but he wished he hadn't. 

There was a figure at the foot of his bed, a man, standing there. When his brain registered this, he realized it wasn't just any man; it was the man from his dream the other night. 

Louis sat up quickly. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. No sound would come out of his mouth. All he could do was stare, gaping at this man with big, fearful blue eyes. 

The man looked exactly the same way that he did in Louis's dream. Except there was something a little off about his appearance; he didn't look the way a person looked when they were standing in front of you. He looked.. Airy. Almost transparent. Sort of like there was a blue-ish glow around him, outlining his body. 

The frightened male on the bed blinked multiple times, and even reached up to rub his eyes. He had to be hallucinating. 

"Please don't be afraid, Louis."

Louis wanted to scream again. He wanted to scream and run out of the house. He wanted to run all the way down the street, maybe even all the way out of town, shouting the whole way. He just wanted to get as far away as possible. 

But still he couldn't get any sound to come out. He could barely breathe. It felt like someone had glued him to the mattress and something was crushing his lungs. 

"There's nothing to be afraid of, I'm not going to hurt you." The man spoke again, in a soft, calming voice. 

When did his life become an actual horror movie? Was Zayn playing a prank on him? A camera crew could burst in any time now, please. He would be relieved if this was a hidden camera show. 

But it wasn't. This was real. 

He was trembling now, his back against the headboard as he stared at the man. "How do you know my name? Who are you? What do you want? There's money in my wallet, you can take it, please take it." He finally managed to choke out his words, pointing to his wallet on the nightstand. 

The man just chuckled, stepping closer. It almost looked like he was floating. What the fuck. 

"I don't want your money, Louis. I don't need it. I'm not going to take anything from you." 

His voice was soothing, like a lullaby. Honestly, under any other circumstances, Louis would have paid him to read him a story until he fell asleep. 

But right now, he was in danger. Or so he thought. He didn't know how this guy got into his house, or his previous dream, for that matter. But he was determined to get him out. He had seen his fair share of murder stories on television; his story was not going to be featured in the next season. 

"Just go, leave, please. Leave, and I won't tell anyone that you broke in. I won't call the cops." Louis's voice was visibly shaking now as he tried to bargain with the man. He hoped he sounded convincing because, well, of course he was going to call the cops. It was all about getting the bad guy to trust you. Louis learned that on TV. 

"I didn't break in. I live here."

Louis was pretty sure that his heart stopped at that. He clutched his blanket as if it was going to provide him with safety, or somehow defend him from this stranger. 

"What..? That's... No. Who the hell are you?" Louis demanded to know, though his heart was still pounding in his chest from fear. 

The man's expression didn't change; he just looked at Louis, calm and collected, like he didn't just randomly appear in Louis's bedroom. The nerve. 

"I'm Liam. I've lived here for quite some time... A few years, physically. Eight months like this." He responded casually, glancing around the room, taking in his surroundings. "It's all so different now."

"Like this? What d'you mean like this? Are you a..." Louis trailed off, swallowing thickly. He just couldn't seem to get the word off his tongue now. 

"A ghost?" Liam found the word for him, a solemn look on his face. Louis just nodded slowly, lips parted as he stared in disbelief. 

This could not be happening. All this time in the house, Louis had thought about the possibility of there being a ghost, but he always brushed it off. The thought seemed irrational. How many people encountered ghosts in their lifetime? A small number, Louis assumed. But now he was one of them. 

"Some would say that, yeah. Ghost, spirit, presence. It's all the same. But to me, I'm still a person." Liam said simply, walking in front of Louis's dresser, his hand appearing to run over the surface, examining it. 

Louis's eyes narrowed for a moment but he kept his gaze on Liam, in case he tried to do anything, like murder him. Not that Louis would be able to stop it. He was still in bed. Idiot. 

"A person? But you're... I mean.. No offense pal, but you're dead." Somehow, he was easing into this conversation, no matter how weird it was. 

Liam suddenly turned to face Louis. "You think I don't know that?" He snapped, causing the other male to jump slightly. If anyone could manage to piss off a ghost, it was Louis, apparently. 

"Yes, I'm dead. But I'm still here, aren't I?" Liam added, brows furrowed as he stared Louis down for a few more moments before turning back around to look around the room. 

Louis was silent for a moment. Liam had a point. He was still here. At least, Louis could see him. He was having a real conversation with a dead person. Or was this another twisted dream? He still couldn't really be sure. 

"Well yeah, but why? Aren't you supposed to like, go to heaven or something like that?"

Liam didn't respond to that. He just turned around and looked and Louis for what felt like a lifetime, which was a bit unsettling. And then as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. It looked like he evaporated, simply disappeared. Louis was still shaking, but he let go of his blanket and slowly slid himself off the bed, glancing around at the space where Liam had stood just moments before. 

How was he even supposed to process this?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay– I got sick and then got caught up in schoolwork. This chapter isn't much so I apologize but more will be coming soon!

Louis stood at the kitchen counter, pouring milk into his cereal bowl, though his eyes were unfocused and mind was racing. After what happened the night before, he had been unable to fall asleep, and now all he could think about was Liam. What was he supposed to do? He didn't exactly feel comfortable knowing there was a ghost in the house, but it wasn't like he could just pick up and move out. Besides, he hadn't told Zayn yet. He didn't know if he even should. Zayn would probably think he was insane. Explaining that you've had a conversation with a dead person wasn't exactly the easiest task. 

"Morning, mate." Zayn said as he entered the kitchen, stretching a bit before opening the fridge. 

Louis looked up with a nod, chewing his cereal. 

"What's the matter? You look... awful. Like you've seen a ghost." 

Zayn's words almost made Louis choke. If only he knew. 

"Actually, I... I need to talk to you about something." Louis confessed as he absently stirred around his cereal and milk with his spoon.

"Alright. What is it, mate?" 

Louis took in a deep breath, carefully setting his spoon down before he rubbed his hands together, a nervous habit he had acquired long ago. 

"There's a... I know it sounds absolutely mental but.. There's a ghost in the house." The male managed to find the words, chewing at the inside of his lip before looking up at Zayn for a reaction. 

Zayn just furrowed his brows as he stared at Louis in confusion for a few moments and then chuckled, shaking his head and taking a sip of his water. 

"It's not funny, Zayn! I'm serious-"

"You obviously didn't get any sleep while I was gone."

"It has nothing to do with that! There's a ghost in our house! I saw it! I saw him!" Louis's voice had become more high pitched and he was just angry more than anything now. Why wouldn't Zayn believe him? They were supposed to have each other's backs. 

Zayn held a hand up in defense. "Alright, alright, calm down. You saw something?"

"Yes!" Louis insisted, running a hand through his hair as he stood up from the table. "His name is Liam, I saw him while you were out last night."

There was silence for a few moments, probably because Zayn didn't know what to make of this. What are you supposed to do when your best friend tells you they've seen a ghost? 

"Are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream-"

"No!" Louis was yelling now, obviously very worked up over the entire situation. He grabbed his cereal bowl and nearly flung it into the sink before storming out of the kitchen. "Fine. Don't believe me, then!"

Zayn sighed and followed after his friend, grabbing his shoulder. "Louis, calm down. I believe you." 

The smaller of the two stood still for a few seconds and then turned around to face Zayn, a small frown on his face. "You don't think I've lost my mind?" He asked softly, just for reassurance. 

"I don't know what's going on, Lou. But if you say you saw something, of course I'm gonna believe you, man. Especially with the way you're acting. Never seen you so worked up."

Louis sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts and relax for once. He hadn't felt completely relaxed since they moved in. 

"Thanks. I'm sorry for blowing up on you, I just.. This is all so stressful." Louis admitted, leaning against the doorframe as he bit down on his bottom lip; he had been doing that a lot lately, and he was surprised he hadn't broken the skin yet. 

Zayn gave the shorter lad a gentle pat on the shoulder. "S'alright. What're we supposed to do about it anyway?" 

That was a great question. Louis wished he had an answer. Instead, he groaned and shrugged his shoulders, glancing down at his socked feet as he tried to think of something, anything, that could help them out in this situation. 

"I don't know. It's not like we can just move out. We bought this place, it was supposed to be fun." 

Zayn nodded at that, pursing his lips before he moved over to the front door, grabbing his jacket. 

"Don't stress, we'll figure it out, yeah? I gotta go to work. You can come along if you don't wanna stay here by yourself." Zayn offered, slipping the leather jacket on over his Bob Marley t-shirt. 

For some reason, Louis wasn't really afraid to be in the house by himself. Of course it was terrifying to see a ghost, technically a dead person, and actually speak to one. But for some reason, he didn't feel that Liam was a threat. If he was, he would have already tried to hurt Louis, wouldn't he?

That's when the lad got an idea. He wanted to know more about Liam. Surely if Liam died there must be some public record that he could dig up online? Louis was determined to find out what was truly going on. 

"It's fine, I'll be okay. Got some stuff to do. See ya." 

Zayn nodded and grabbed his car keys, heading outside. "Call if you need anything, mate."

As soon as the door closed, Louis rushed to power on his laptop. He had a lot of research to do.


End file.
